The Christmas Vigil (3 page)

“Thank Christ. I’m so glad you’re here, Mom.”

Marguerite nodded and pulled out of his arms. “How is he?”

Riley’s shoulders slumped. “He’s out of surgery, but still unconscious. The doctor came out awhile ago and told me a blood vessel at the base of Dad’s brain has ruptured. They’ve repaired the damage to the vein, but only time will tell how much damage his brain’s suffered.”

Her stomach took a dive. “Have you seen him?”

“Not yet. I was out on a job when I took the call from Joel Parker. He’s the detective who attended the scene. He recognized Dad right away. He’d tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“Yes, he left a message on my phone.” Marguerite reflexively touched her freshly cut, dyed and blow-waved hair. “I-I was at Shelley’s salon.”

Riley nodded brusquely. “When Joel couldn’t reach you, he called me.”

“Of course. I’m glad he did.” She paused, still trying to piece everything together. “Why were the police notified? Where in heaven’s name was he found?”

Riley averted his gaze. A blush stained his cheeks. Marguerite stared at him, her instincts on high alert.
What wasn’t he telling her?
The dread that had eased slightly upon her arrival at the hospital now returned in full force.

“What is it, Riley? What aren’t you telling me?”

He met her gaze without flinching, but the tension in his jaw told her how much of an effort it was. She held her breath, instinctively knowing something was terribly wrong.

“They…they found him unconscious in a hotel room near the river.”

“A
hotel
room? What on earth are you talking about? That can’t possibly be right. What would your father be doing in a hotel room? I saw him at home in the garden not long before I left for my appointment.”

Riley’s cheeks turned redder and he once again averted his gaze. Her dread escalated into full blown confusion, holding her immobile. She stared at her son, unblinking and unmoving and willed him to provide a logical explanation.

“J-Joel says it appears that Dad was…” His voice faded away.

Impatience and an increasing anxiety made her voice sharp. “For heaven’s sake, Riley, spit it out. Why was your father in a hotel room?”

Riley closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, his face pained. Marguerite bit her lip until she tasted blood, suddenly sure she didn’t want to know. Before she could tell Riley she’d changed her mind, he spoke in a voice that was rough with shock and disbelief.

“Joel attended the scene. He said it appears Dad was at the hotel for the purposes of…of a romantic assignation. That he was expecting a woman—”

A low growl of denial started deep in her throat and made its way out through her mouth. Her vision narrowed to mere pinpricks of light and there was a roaring in her ears.

She’d heard him wrong.
It couldn’t be right. An
affair?
It wasn’t possible. Not her husband. Not Duncan. She refused to believe it.

“No!”
she shook her head from side to side with increasing vehemence. “No, you’re wrong. Joel’s wrong. Your father would never cheat on me. I won’t believe it. You can’t make me believe it.”

Riley’s face filled with sadness and pity. The sight of it infuriated her. “Don’t you dare look at me like that, Riley Munro.
Don’t you
dare.
I don’t care what Joel thinks. He’s wrong. Do you hear me? He’s
wrong
. There’s no way your father’s having an affair.”

“Mom, he was found in a suite at the Bellevue Hotel. He’d registered as John Smith. According to Joel, there was more than one sign that he was expecting company…of the female kind.”

Marguerite absorbed the information as best as she could, but the words hammered away in her heart. The Bellevue Hotel was a renowned meeting place for illicit liaisons and why would Duncan give a false name?
Why would he be there at all?
It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

“I want to see him,” she demanded. “I won’t believe it until he tells me himself and even then, I might not believe it.”

Riley shook his head. “Oh, Mom. I know how you feel. I feel the same way. Dad, an adulterer? I can’t believe it, either. I don’t want to believe it. But the facts don’t lie.” He drew in a ragged breath and looked away. When his gaze returned to hers, she almost gasped at the bleakness in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell you, Mom, but I think you need to know. Joel found a rose and a piece of racy lingerie on the bed. The receipt for the clothing was in Dad’s luggage. Two hundred and fifty dollars and it was only dated a week day ago. There was lubricant and massage oil on the nightstand. He’d ordered expensive champagne and two glasses—”

“Noooo!”
She put her hands over her ears, unable to bear listening to any more. Her jaw was clenched so tight, she thought her teeth might snap. The sob worked its way up through the tension in her stomach, the constriction in her chest, until at last, she couldn’t hold it back.

She howled. Her breath came fast. Riley stepped forward, pleading and placating. He tried to hold her, but she pushed him away.

It wasn’t true.
It couldn’t be true. The police had it wrong. Duncan wouldn’t cheat on her. It would be more likely for him to fly to the moon. They’d been married forty years. Only that morning, he’d kissed her good-bye and told her how much he loved her.

It was a lie. It was all a lie. She needed to see him, to speak with him. She needed to hear him tell her it wasn’t true. She refused to believe every word, every smile, every kiss—forty years of togetherness—had been a lie. She refused to believe her life and their love had been nothing more than an illusion.

Spinning on her heel, she strode over to the door of the ICU and stabbed at the buzzer. The intercom crackled and was answered by someone almost immediately. Marguerite cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders and requested entry to see her husband.

A few moments later, the door was opened from the inside and a young nurse with blond hair and kind blue eyes greeted them quietly.

“H-how is he?” Marguerite stammered, fear now constricting her throat. She was grateful for Riley’s presence.

“He’s still unconscious, but he’s doing okay,” the nurse replied, directing her response to Marguerite. “The doctors are pleased with the way he came through the surgery. We’ll know more soon. You can come in and see him, if you like.”

Marguerite nodded and glanced behind her to where Riley stood, tense and still. The nurse followed her gaze.

“I’m sorry, but the doctors have restricted his visitors to one at a time and for only a few minutes each. It’s tiring for the patient, regardless of their level of consciousness.”

Riley gave a brief nod and stepped back. “Of course. I understand. I’ll wait for you out here, Mom.”

Marguerite acknowledged him with the slightest movement of her head, her focus now entirely on the hospital ward. In a matter of moments, she’d see her husband—not as she had a matter of hours ago, but gravely ill, unconscious… She steeled herself against the impact and followed the nurse through the ward.

CHAPTER FOUR

Riley

Grafton Base Hospital

Riley stared after his mother. He recalled the pain and devastation on her face when he’d first given her the news and then how she’d pulled herself together and marched into the ICU like it was something she did every day. Admiration for her courage and her strength flooded through him and he couldn’t help but send a desperate plea heavenwards, that her faith in his father wasn’t misplaced.

When Joel had called him with the discovery, he’d refused to believe it. Not his father, the former judge: upstanding, loyal, unimpeachable. It wasn’t possible. But the evidence was there for all to see, including Charlie, the boy at the hotel who had raised the alarm.

His father had ordered room service; enough food for two. When Charlie’s knock had gone unanswered, he’d become more than a little concerned. He’d spoken to the judge a couple of hours earlier and had noticed…certain things. The boy had alerted the manager who then entered the room by force. Duncan had been found on the bed, unconscious and barely breathing.

With no wallet or ID, and nothing more than the name he’d registered under, the hotel manager had no choice but to call the police. They’d arrived right behind the paramedics. It had taken Joel less than three seconds to realize it was Riley’s father.

Riley had jumped into his unmarked squad car and had driven the two hours to Grafton. He’d phoned his wife, Kate, on the way and had stumbled through an explanation. He couldn’t even recall what he’d said. He then phoned his mother more times than he could remember and cursed when he kept getting her voice mail.

His mother…
He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. He prayed she’d be okay.

Okay?
What was he thinking? Of course she wasn’t okay. Neither of them were okay and his brothers and sisters wouldn’t be, either.

The reminder that his siblings had yet to be informed stopped him cold.
What was he going to tell them?
They respected and adored their father. He’d been a positive role model all of their lives and an inspiration to them all. To be appointed the first aboriginal judge to the New South Wales District Court was an achievement that had left all of them in awe—even more so now that they were adults and could fully appreciate exactly what it had taken Duncan Munro to get there.

Riley drew in a deep breath and tried to ease the tension that gripped his body. Glancing down the corridor, he noticed it was empty and suddenly longed for the comfort of Kate’s arms. His stumbled explanation had been met with shock and confusion. He couldn’t even remember whether she responded. Of course, she would have. He wished he could remember what she’d said.

The door to the ICU opened and his mother hurried out. Riley stepped forward, but she averted her gaze.

“Mom! How is he?”

She looked up. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Riley’s gut clenched at the pain and sadness and deep concern that shadowed their bright blue depths. As if beyond words, she shook her head in silence and rushed past him, headed in the direction of the elevators. A moment later, he heard the elevator
ding
and watched as she stepped inside and disappeared from sight.

A few minutes later, the doctor Riley had briefly spoken to earlier filled the doorway of the ICU and came toward him, his face grim. The fear Riley had done his best to keep at bay for the last hour surged through him.

“Commander Munro,” the doctor greeted him.

“Riley. Please, call me Riley.”

“Riley.” The doctor nodded. “I’m Jordan Holland, one of the ICU registrars. Sorry, I didn’t have time to introduce myself earlier. We were a little…busy. I wanted to catch your mother, but she left before I could speak to her. I told you your father’s had a ruptured brain aneurysm. I wanted to make sure you understand what that means.”

Riley nodded. A block of concrete lodged itself in his gut. He swallowed against the panic and tried to answer. “Isn’t that some kind of bleed?”

“Yes. Aneurysms occur when there’s a weakness in the artery wall and when they rupture it causes a bleed. They can appear anywhere, but in your father’s case, there’s been a thinning of the blood vessel near the base of his brain, forming a ballooning where pressure builds. Today, it decided to rupture.”

Riley stared at the doctor. He looked about Riley’s age. The man sported thick, dark hair that was in need of a cut and looked like he’d run his hand through it more than once. His brown eyes were serious, but Riley saw the kindness in them…and the fatigue. It couldn’t be easy working in such a high-risk area of medicine, where life and death often hung in the balance.

Riley closed his eyes and braced himself for what he had to know. A moment later, he opened his eyes and forced the question through his lips. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes, but he remains unconscious. The surgery went well. We located the source of the rupture and have repaired it. We’ve also managed to stop the bleeding. He’s still showing signs of normal brain activity, but at this stage, we can’t tell what kind of long-term damage he’s sustained, if any. I believe he was unconscious for a couple of hours, maybe more, before he was discovered. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

“He will wake up, though, won’t he?”

The doctor shrugged. “I’d like to hope so, but it’s too early to tell. We’re going to monitor him closely and see how it goes.”

“C-can I see him?” Riley asked.

“Yes, of course, although we’re restricting his visitors to one at a time for now and for no more than a few minutes each.”

“Thank you. The nurse told us. I promise I won’t be long.”

The doctor nodded and appeared satisfied with Riley’s answer. “Follow me, I’ll show you the way.”

Within moments, Riley was inside the quiet, sterile environment that was the ICU. The only sounds came from the beeping of the machines that stood beside every patient and the occasional, low murmur of voices from staff. The room was large and open and well lit. Riley supposed that the patients in the beds were mostly unconscious and wouldn’t know day from night anyway.

The nurses’ station was positioned in the middle of the room and afforded a view of every bed. His father’s was the closest.